


Away From All Welcome Mats

by hellotomyoldheart



Series: the nights are getting shorter [2]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, Light Angst, Lilith being a good person, Mentor/Protégé, POV Amity Blight, found family i guess??, the start of a found family i'd say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellotomyoldheart/pseuds/hellotomyoldheart
Summary: Amity can’t- she can’t point to the date on a calendar and tell the world that was when she wanted to start weeping. When she wanted to run home from school, rush into her mother’s arms, and sob that she had a bad day.“It’s…” Amity starts but pauses because she doesn’t know if she should be honest or not. She rubs her face and puts down her plate, bites the inside of her cheek, forces words to exit her mouth. “I’m just really tired.”
Relationships: Amity Blight & Lilith Clawthorne, Amity Blight & Mrs. Blight
Series: the nights are getting shorter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967830
Comments: 7
Kudos: 163





	Away From All Welcome Mats

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! i wrote this while listening to worried shoes by karen o and the kids (the song where the title comes from) over and over again at midnight. i wrote about luz missing her mother, and from what we've seen of amity and her parent's relationship; it's a bit more complicated. i based parts of this on my own relationship with my mother, just the whole strange view on you hurt me but you are also the woman who raised me ykyk. i forgot about amity's leg injury about halfway through and i'm not rewriting it to put the injury in there- i know and i'm sorry. this might be a little ooc with lilith, but i do think that she can be soft and would be so toward a distressed amity. i'll probably write more about amity, i have a wip in my docs similar to this fic. anyway. i hope you enjoy!!

Amity remembers the first time she felt a burning hot rage because of her mother. She remembers her hair feelings uncomfortable on her scalp, her fingernails digging into her palms, her jaw clenched so tight it ached.

Amity hates her mother, or at least she wants to. She wishes she could. There are so many things Amity hates about the woman who brought her into this world. She hates her mother’s hair, the hair she doesn’t take after as her siblings do. She hates her mother’s nails, how sharp and polished they are. She hates her mother’s yell, her mother’s footsteps, her mother’s lipstick, her mother’s fake smile, her mother’s voice telling other people what the children are up to, her mother’s sharp tone telling Amity’s father that their youngest daughter’s hair needed to be changed.

It’s a complicated relationship. Amity and her mother. Because Amity wants to set her mother’s favorite quilt on fire and then run for the hills but at the same time Amity feels so much comfort when her mother drapes the quilt over Amity’s resting body when she’s on the couch.

 _You take after your father,_ one of Amity’s aunts had once said. _And your mother isn’t all that pleased._

 _I know,_ Amity responded. _I wish I didn’t but I know._

Amity goes to the owl house one afternoon, bags under her eyes and legs weak from walking. All Amity wants to do is rest until her body sinks into the earth and flowers rise from her skin. She wonders if Willow could help her with that.

Lilith answers the door, her hair far frizzier than normal, and wearing large round glasses. She eyes Amity with uncertainty that Amity has never seen in Lilith’s face before. “Edalyn and the human are out.”

“Oh,” Amity answers, deflating. “Can I wait for them?”

Lilith seems to consider it for a moment, before shrugging and opening the door to allow Amity in. The house looks different since the last time she’s been there. There are more things, it’s cleaner but more crowded. Everything seems to have its own place.

Amity sits carefully on the couch, clutching her bag to her chest. Lilith disappears into the kitchen.

Time passes. Amity rests her head on her bag, shutting her eyes. A bird squawks outside, the trees rustle from the wind, Amity feels heavy.

“Here,” Lilith says, holding a chipped plate with cookies and a small mug in front of Amity, “you seem fatigued. This might help.”

Amity started, then reluctantly took the plate from Lilith, grasping the mug carefully to take a sip. “Thank you.”

Lilith sits in a chair next to Amity, a floating book in front of her. She notices Amity staring and turns her head sharply toward the young girl, a look on her face Amity can’t read.

“Are you alright?” Lilith asks, a fragility in her voice Amity didn’t know she was capable of.

And it hurts. It does. The pain has made a home inside her chest. It has hung up paintings and furnished, changes the lightbulbs when her eyes get too dim. Amity has no clue when she became so exhausted. When she woke up and wanted to go back to sleep, when she started to dread the sun rising because it meant she had to rise with it. Amity can’t remember the day everything in her seemed to shift, seemed to break off its hinges.

Amity can’t- she can’t point to the date on a calendar and tell the world that was when she wanted to start weeping. When she wanted to run home from school, rush into her mother’s arms, and sob that she had a bad day.

“It’s…” Amity starts but pauses because she doesn’t know if she should be honest or not. She rubs her face and puts down her plate, bites the inside of her cheek, forces words to exit her mouth. “I’m just really tired.”

Lilith tilts her chin up, furrows her brows so slightly, and stands. She sets down her mug, moves next to Amity, and opens her arms- both awkwardly and welcoming.

Amity stares, confused and hesitant, eyes scanning Lilith’s face of a warning or threat.

But there is none. It’s just this woman, a woman who Amity has known for most of her life, offering comfort. Offering warmth. Offering a hug. It reminds Amity of her mother tucking the quilt around Amity.

“C’mon,” Lilith encourages, her hands beckoning Amity closer, “it’s okay. Just a hug.”

Amity reluctantly moves closer, letting her guard down just a touch, allowing Lilith to wrap her skinny arms around Amity’s frame. She’s surprisingly strong, holds Amity’s firmly, her body warm and solid. Amity shuts her eyes, exhales shakily, tries to relax.

Lilith sets her chin on the top of Amity’s head, rubs Amity’s back in circular motions, humming gently under her breath. Amity wraps an arm around Lilith’s back, suddenly feeling like a child again. Safe again. Like she could fit in the space under her desk or run into her mother’s arms and cry about a scrap on her leg or fall asleep on the couch and be carried to bed.

Amity doesn’t realize her eyes are welling with tears until droplets are streaming down her face unwillingly. Until Lilith is holding her closer, removing one arm to snap and move Amity’s bag to the ground, then sits closer and rocks them back and forth slowly.

It’s not what Amity expects from Lilith. Not in the slightest. There’s always been a sharpness, an edge, an unforgiving blade in how Lilith showed herself to the world. Maybe living with her sister, the fascination that is Luz and that little fuzzy creature King dulled Lilith down.

“It’s okay,” Lilith whispered, soothing and gentle. Nothing like Amity’s mother, not anymore at least. Amity doesn’t remember the last time her mother held her and it felt like a hug or a loving gesture instead of a trap to keep Amity from running. Lilith smooths down Amity’s slightly knotted hair, squeezes her and nods, “it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay, everything’s going to be fine.”

Amity shuts her eyes. She breathes deeply. And believes Lilith, she truly does.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! kudos & comments warm my heart <3
> 
> [my tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hellotomyoldheart)


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